I have been meaning to tell this story for a long time but have never taken
the time to write it all down. I wanted to retain it for my own purposes,
as part of a diary that I have never really given much more than a half-hearted
attempt at maintaining. But with a couple of vodka and tonics in me tonight,
I realized that I had to tell it, partially because it is true, but mostly
because I think I might actually have the balls to write it.

My name is
Jurgen and I live in the Northwest. I have had a pretty fun sex life with
some interesting partners, but this particular occurrence marks the most
erotic and sensual experience I have ever had the pleasure and luck to
experience.

A few years
ago I started running to stay in shape. As I got to my thirties, I realized
that nothing less would keep the bulge at bay. Needless to say, having
started so late, I was not the greatest runner and still am not a triathlete
and ironman I am not, either. Perhaps more of a wooden man, given my stiff
legged gait and burning red cheeks as I get up to speed. Nevertheless,
I started running.

I am not
married but am lucky to have had a few long-term girlfriends. Back when
this particular experience occurred, I was trying to rid myself of rather
a bad relationship with a clingy career gal with success on her mind and
visions of a waterfront home brimming with kids. She was funny and pretty,
but not what I'd call sexy. I discovered after a while that I was really
looking for someone sexy, someone who wore sexy clothes, wore dark and
musky perfume, drove a sexy car and said sexy things. Unfortunately, my
gal did none of these things. Not ugly, just not sexy. Are you with me
so far? OK.

So off I
shuffled down the road every couple of nights that fall, jogging along
at a respectable but not record-setting pace. I paced out a route through
my neighbourhood that took me out 15 minutes, first quickly down a steep
hill, then a little uphill, and then back 15 minutes, slightly downhill
almost all the way home. The last long block was straight uphill and a
killer for me. I managed to make almost a routine of it and was getting
pretty chuffed with myself. The route took me through an entirely residential
neighbourhood that was decidedly middle class.

It was a
mix of single family housing and duplexes. A few unwed mothers and retirees
gave the streets a little downscale but comfortable air. Into this atmosphere
I strode for several months, rain or shine, all fall and winter. Slowly,
after a month or so, I began to recognize some of the residents around
the area, and even garnered a smile or two from some of the old folks
who took their evening constitutional about the same time as I took my
run.

Right near
the "summit", as I called it ­ the slightly up-hill turnaround
point where I began my descent back home, there was a small yellow house
with a meticulously kept front garden. The lawn was always well trimmed
and a profusion of flowers spilled out underneath the front windows and
along the path to the sidewalk. Even in the winter, there were blooms.
Although I'm not much of a gardener, I still admired the place every time
I went past and got used to glancing at the yard as I went by. It was
on the up-hill side of the street, slightly raised from the sidewalk,
and sometimes when I looked up I saw figures inside the house, but rarely
someone outside.

The following
spring, I started to notice some kids toys in the front yard when I went
running by. Not often, but now and again. I figured it was a young couple
with very young children, given the miniscule size of the tricycles and
other playthings that infrequently were scattered around the yard. Then,
one Friday in the early spring, while the sun was setting late enough
for there to be light in the evenings, I saw a young woman on her knees
digging and weeding in one of the flower beds under the front windows.

As I ran
by, she didn't look up at all, despite the fact that there was no-one
else on the street but me huffing by ­ she was totally engrossed in
her gardening. Despite her ungainly position, I was momentarily transfixed
­ my gaze rooted on her form. Without a doubt, she was the sexiest
little thing I had ever seen. Now, admittedly, I couldn't see her face,
but her incredibly shapely rear-end was crammed into a pair of shiny black
spandex tights, and it was pointed straight at me.

Her upper
body, bent over the dirt and weeds, was covered by a sleeveless red fleece
top and I could see that it's fuzzy bulk covered a very petite form. Her
hair was dark and short and a little spiky. Her butt was so unbelievably
cute that I almost stopped, choked, mid-stride. But I kept moving, and
mindful of her neighbours and privacy, padded on by. I couldn't get her
out of my mind all the way home. I can't explain why.

When I got
home and was showering off, I realized that my mind was still totally
occupied by her, and I was hellaciously aroused by the very thought of
her ass. I found myself stroking my dick as it thickened between my legs
in the shower. I was more aroused than I had been in months with my girlfriend.
You'd think I was pretty sex-starved to be idly fantasizing about a woman
whose face I had never seen, but the very thought of her was entrancing
me. Crazy.

Well let
me tell you, I just couldn't get her off my mind. I finally concocted
a few half-baked fantasies about her that aroused me so much that one
night alone in bed, I came without even touching myself, which is something
that had not happened to me in 15 years.

Each time
I ran past her place I would scan the yard and the dark windows for a
peek, but for weeks, it seemed, there was no sign. Then, one Sunday afternoon,
when I was out for an uncharacteristically early run, her yard was full
of people. As I jogged past, I could see her standing at the bottom of
her front steps holding a small child in her arms and a bundle of toys
in the other. She was talking to an older woman that I took to be her
mother, and another child was playing with an elderly gentleman.

As I jogged
by, the boy was yelling "Grandpa, grandpa, catch-me" and flailing
a spurting garden hose in the air. The yard was full of the aftermath
of an afternoon of play ­ toys and garden furniture everywhere. But
I was not concerned with this. Time stood still, and my casual glance
became a lingering stare as I took the young woman in. Her face was pixie-like,
shining and pert. Her shapely eyebrows framed a pair of large elfin eyes
of a colour I could not determine. Her cheekbones were high placed but
not huge. Her lips were bobbed and red, the very essence of bee-stung
­ not too thick and not too thin. Absolutely stunningly beautiful.

Best of all,
she was smiling as she spoke and her face was illuminated. She looked
young and vibrant, and I had a hard time with the picture of the child
in her arms, as she looked too fit and vibrant to be a mother. There was,
however, no question that the child was hers. The same pixie-like features
and pursed lips. That must be the daughter, I thought. I took as much
of this in as I could in the short seconds as I loped on by on the sidewalk.
The old lady turned to glance at me momentarily but the young lady didn't
even flicker an eye at me. She was engrossed in her conversation and the
young child in her arm. Her chest was hidden from view, but I saw that
she was again wearing black, skin-tight spandex tights with a tight white
singlet on top. I couldn't see her breasts as they were obscured by the
child's form, but I had seen enough.

I was breathless
and my eyes clouded over with spots. I couldn't believe it. She was gorgeous.
An absolute darling woman-child. My actual fantasies had not cooked up
as beautiful a face as I saw that afternoon. I ran back home in a thick
haze. My mind conjured up a thousand billion scenarios that would justify
running back to her house, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I showered
in the same half-blind fog and found myself erect and throbbing as I soaped
under the warm jet of water. I masturbated my thick wang and wished desperately
that she was there with me. I imagined that I could even smell her there
with me. As my come spattered on the glass shower door, I was absolutely
drained with desire.

Over the
next week I ran every night except one, trying to catch her out front
of her house again after work. Finally on Friday, fate smiled on me, and
I did catch her as I ran by. She was walking down her path to the road.
She was dressed in a slim black shift and heels. She was walking towards
a car with her keys out, fumbling in her black purse. Oh my god, I was
quivering. She had a tiny amount of makeup on, just enough to slightly
accentuate her eyes (deep brown) and her shiny red lips. The timing was
perfect, as I ran past the front of her path. She glanced at me, and slowed
her gait slightly to let me run past. Time stood still for a second, and
finally, finally, I had a chance to look into her eyes as I passed.

"S'cuse
me", I said.

"Hi
there", she said. And smiled at me. Right at me. I kept my cool and
didn't hold her gaze, but smiled politely back at her. Oh man, my heart
rate TRIPLED as I ran away, DYING to turn around and give her one more
look. But I didn't dare. As I turned the corner at the top of the small
hill, I tossed an innocent glance over my shoulder and saw her getting
into a little green Acura. It was then, ex-ACTLY then that I realized
I was in love with her. The stupidest thing ever, I know. Love. A love
based on three glimpses and four words. But, what can I say? I know it,
and if it's ever happened to you, you know it too, don't you. "S'cuse
Me." I had said. "Hi there," she had said. Then: WHAM.
In Love, I was. Capital "L", baby.

Now: I had
seen her up close, heard her cute little voice, and best of all, smelled
her. She was wearing a perfect perfume ­ a little musk, a little citrus.
I couldn't place it, but knew I'd smelled it before. It was a young person's
perfume. 'I'd figure out which one it was', I thought, as I floated home,
panic stricken that I had left my own sweaty odour wafting behind me as
I ran past.

Now I realize
what you're probably thinking: 'Uh-oh. Stalker Boy. She's in danger'.
But it wasn't like that. I was as harmless and innocent as a 12 year old,
so fearful of appearing like a slavering lunatic, that I was far too afraid
to approach a woman like that. No, I would worship from afar. As it happened,
I didn't have to wait too much longer for another look.

Weeks later
I was running every second night, hoping to catch a glimpse, but all I'd
seen was her back disappearing into her front door, her head driving by
me in her car, and her kids running around the side of the house. I'd
seen no sight of a man around the house, and let me tell you that did
much to fuel my erotic fantasies. Unfortunately, my work took me on a
three-week sojourn to Europe and then the East coast, and I had to settle
for memories of my little pixie's smile. My relationship with the Frumpy
One was on hold as I had been spurning her company for a while. The trip
helped a little, but resulted in countless voicemails and emails while
I was away.

After I got
back, I went running the first night I arrived, a Saturday. I was feeling
vibrant and confident after a particularly successful set of customer
meetings, and was enjoying the stiff warmth coursing through my muscles
as they stretched out after the three week hiatus I had given them. As
I approached her house, I saw that she was in her yard with a few people.
Her house faced south west, so if she was going to have a sunset barbecue,
she had to have it out front. There were about 12 people in her yard,
the majority being women. There was a lot of laughter and they seemed
to be having a good time. A small ghetto blaster was playing some jazz
quietly.

There was
no sign of her children or any other kids for that matter. As I ran past,
I glimpsed her standing near her flower-bed beneath the front window.
To my disbelief, she caught my eye as I ran past and raised her wine glass
to me, smiling. As I approached the point at which it would no longer
be polite to stare at her, I managed a stunned grin and a small awkward
wave. A couple of women around her turned quickly to see who their host
was waving at, and I heard her speak again through the throng: "Oh,
he's always out running..." and then I heard no more.

I couldn't
believe it. She sounded as though she'd seen me a lot more than twice.
Wow. Suddenly I felt a tiny, tiny bit more connected to her. I had to
learn more about her!

About a week
later I was running past again in the pouring spring rain, when she was
getting out of her car, a briefcase in one arm and a newspaper held over
her head. She was wearing a business suit with a short skirt and dark
blazer. She looked up as I splashed by and laughed out loud at me. I turned
my head towards her and spoke: "What?" I laughed back at her.
"Are you crazy. You must be a nut." "Its not that bad,"
I managed to spit out, before I was past her. This brief interaction kept
me smiling all the way home despite the deluge. Man, I HAD to get to know
this babe. Little did I know, that our relationship was about to change
radically.

As the spring
became full-blown summer I saw her more and more often although we didn't
speak at all. Once or twice I saw her long enough to exchange a smile
or two, but nothing more. I never saw her with another person other than
the lady I believed to be her mother and, infrequently, her small children.
She seemed active, and once or twice I caught her with a tennis bag and
gym gear. The best part was that she almost always wore spandex tights
when she was working in her garden, that gave me plenty of opportunity
to view her stunning little ass from a wide variety of angles. As the
weather warmed, I caught her again in the singlet that was white and skin-tight.

Her breasts
were firm and high on her chest. Not big, but nicely rounded and often
flattened slightly by the stretchy fabric of her top. Once I saw her in
a mindblowing sports bra as she leant on her bumper doing up a running
shoe. She was leaning towards me and her cleavage was thrust enticingly
forward at me. It was enough of a view for weeks of masturbatory fantasies.
I imagined my cock plowing between those globes, spattering my seed all
over them. I imagined a lot more too. She kept herself nicely tanned and
seemed to grow a golden olive brown as the warm summer weeks progressed.

One evening,
as I jogged toward her house, I saw her in the front yard. From a distance,
she seemed to be struggling with an errant child. She was bent over, facing
toward me, backing up along the front path by her flower-bed. As I got
closer, I realized she was dragging a huge bag of topsoil toward the corner
of her house. By the time I got to the edge of her lawn, I had slowed
my pace. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mouth went bone dry as I
spoke: "Hey," I croaked. "Can I give you a hand with that?"

I stopped
in my tracks, smiling at her nervously. She looked up, having not seen
me until I spoke. She smiled, widely.

"Hey
there, you. Yeah, that would be great. This thing weighs a ton."

I walked
up her path, for the first time, approaching her. In the setting sun,
her skin glowed. The light shone off her tights and accentuated her curves.
Her top was tight and white again (what a wardrobe!) and was tucked into
the top of her tights. She was wearing sandals and had a pair of soiled
garden gloves tucked under her arm.

"Where
are you taking it"? I asked, bending down to pick up the big thick
plastic bag full of dirt.

"Oh,
just around to the basement door. This way," she turned slightly.
"You're not going to pick that thing up are you? It's SO heavy".

"It's
OK," I grunted, conscious of looking like I was trying too hard to
impress her. Hefting the bag into my arms I said: "Lead on."

She stepped
ahead of me, and suddenly time seemed to slow again. As she led me to
the end of the path and around the corner of her house, my eyes fell to
her butt. Rounded sweetly, pouting out over the tops of her thighs, it
was a perfect pert little heart shape, and I couldn't get the image of
my dick plowing between those cheeks out of my head.

She led me
round the corner and out of the sun, where it was much cooler. A door
stood open to her basement and she led me down two concrete steps into
the relative darkness of her storeroom. There were garden tools and a
lawnmower against one wall, and a workbench against another.

"Where
do you want it?" I asked.

"Over
there is fine," she giggled, "just don't get a hernia on me.
I don't think my insurance will cover you."

I dropped
the heavy sack on the floor under a window and turned back toward her.

Suddenly,
I was aware of an acute change in the atmosphere. She was standing right
behind me and I literally bumped into her as I turned.

"Oops"
I said, looking down into her eyes.

"No
problem," she whispered.

She was looking
up at me intensely, with a strange half-grin on her face. I couldn't believe
it. I was standing less than six inches from the most beautiful woman
I had ever seen, the object of my fantasies, and she was staring at me
like she wanted me to kiss her. You know that look? It's the look you
see only once from someone. The first time you ever think that you might
kiss each other, but haven't done so yet.

It's a magical
moment that we should all cherish carefully, because it doesn't ever repeat
itself with that person ever again. And there we were, standing in that
moment. I was acutely conscious of my sweaty body and my heavy breathing.
My heart was pounding like a cannon, partially from the run, and partially
in abject fear. That's right. Fear. I was terrified that this whole scenario
wasn't going to play out. Cautiously, I moved toward her with my arms
slightly out. She leaned towards me, and in an incredibly short millisecond
... I kissed her, absolutely stunning myself with my own boldness.

I just leaned
in and kissed her right on the lips ­ a short, soft, sensual caress
on the lips. No tongue, no open lips, no saliva, no teeth. Not a peck,
but not a slobber either. I couldn't believe that I had done it, and without
being able to stop myself, I jerked back and giggled like a child. "Oh
my God, I can't believe I did that. I'm sorry"

She was wide-eyed
too, smiling in shock.

There was
a moment of silence.

"I can't
believe WE did that. Where did THAT come from!" She giggled at me,
hands clasped on her thighs, bent over in a cute display of disbelief.

"Holy
shit. I am so sorry."

"No,
don't be sorry." Her smile faded slightly. She leaned in toward me
and kissed me right back, her lips parted slightly and her eyes closed.

Suddenly,
suddenly, she was in my arms, and her arms were about me. I was bent over
a little, as she was at least 6 inches shorter than me, but our arms were
around each other. My stomach felt hollow and I was literally quivering
deep in my abdomen. I couldn't believe it. I could hear the blood racing
in my ears. The kiss was long and lingering and before long her tongue
flickered between her lips and tickled my teeth slightly. Her embrace
grew stronger.

What were
we doing? This was like out of some crazy dream. I held her tighter in
response, my hands grasping the slender waist and delicate shoulder blades.

"Holy
cow." I said, as I pulled my head back. "Holy cow."

She looked
up at me, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Come here".
She turned slightly, kicking the basement door shut, then led me through
the dimness and clutter to the bottom of a set of stairs. Light shone
down the stairwell and I was struck still by the vision of her incredible
ass swaying up the steps before me. It was all I could do to prevent myself
from reaching out and grabbing her shiny spandex-covered rear and burying
my face between her legs. She led me up the stairs, which came out into
her kitchen.

The dying
rays of the sunset bounced down a skylight and cast an orange glow down
onto her countertops. At the kitchen counter she stopped and turned to
me, pulling my hands towards her and placing them around her back, and,
Lord of Lords, on her ass. She actually took my hands and PLACED them
on her ASS. I tell you. I was in a state of staggering disbelief. My genitals
were packed tightly into a pair of lycra shorts beneath an outer running
shell, and they were beginning to bulge with an urgent tumescence. I felt
lightheaded that this was happening. A thousand thoughts blistered through
my head. Where were her kids? Did she have a husband after all? Where
was he? Were we alone in the house?

You know.
Don't you. You know that feeling when your cock and your skin and your
lips tell you all you need to know, don't you?: 'Fuck it', they say. 'I
don't care if he's standing behind me with a shotgun. I'm riding this
rollercoaster to the bitter end, because I paid my fare and I'm getting
my money's worth'.

Our bodies
mashed together. She writhed in my embrace and my hands finally, finally,
roamed over the taught and turgid flesh of her award-winning ass. It was
rounded and perfect and beautiful. I kneaded the flesh and heard her moan
her approval. Her hands swarmed over my sweaty back, but I was long past
caring about that. My penis throbbed urgently, trapped within it's elasticized
prison. I was conscious of it pressing into her firm little belly. Her
hard little breasts squashed against my lower chest and her sparkling
lips tore across mine. We were grunting and moaning like teenagers at
a drive-in. We came up gasping for air and her lips traced a frantic path
down my neck to the open "V" of my t-shirt. She kissed my chest
and continued down to my left nipple, picking at it through the fabric.
My hardness was crawling up my thigh beneath the confines of my shorts.
I buried my nose in her short hair and smelled the wonderful clean smell
of shampoo, perfume and the great outdoors. It's a smell that only men
usually get to smell, and I love it.

She was leaning
back against the counter top and suddenly she hopped up on it so that
she was sitting there and all of a sudden her legs wrapped around my torso,
and I knew, in that one moment, that we had passed the point of no return.
There was no going back.

She pulled
me toward her, and in a second right out of my wildest fantasy, ran a
hand down my flat stomach and sought my bulge. When she found my fatness
resting impatiently against my left thigh, thick and firm, she groaned
audibly and threw her head back, eyes closed. Both of her hands were now
caressing and kneading my dick and balls. I leant in and kissed her neck
and jawline. I could feel wetness seeping from the head of my cock and
suddenly panicked. I knew that this sensory stimulation could throw me
right over the edge and I envisioned myself coming buckets in my lycra
shorts. I pulled back, eliciting a petulant moan from her sexy lips, and
I pulled her off the counter. I turned, and saw a hallway, leading to
what were obviously bedrooms and a bathroom. I led her, almost jogging,
to the bathroom. I don't know why I pulled her in there instead of the
bedroom, but I think part of me felt that I still needed a shower. Nevertheless,
I did the right thing, because she positively bounced in behind me.

I turned
her so that her back was to the broad vanity. I flicked the light on and
hopped her ass up on the counter. She was staring up at me with bright
and shining eyes, any trace of nervousness replaced by raw lust. I stepped
back from the counter, grabbed her two feet in one hand and yanked her
sandals off. I reached for the waistband of her sexy spandex pants. She
got the hint and lifted her ass off the counter so I could work them off
her hips. I peeled them back all the way down to her feet and tossed them
aside. Her thighs were tight and as sexy as I expected them to be.

But best
of all was her singlet. It wasn't a t-shirt tucked into her pants as I
had thought. It was a stretchy one piece t-shirt that led down to an integrated
thong panty thingamajig. The white fabric was stretched dangerously tight
over her heaving bosom and led down to a thin band that covered her crotch.
I could see in the mirror that the thong back spread the firm cheeks of
her cute little bottom apart. She was beseeching me with her eyes to touch
her, to come close, but I had to drink it all in. I could see her rigid
little nipples protesting against their confinement.

At the juncture
of her delicious thighs, the fabric stretched taut over her impudent little
mound. I could see no darkness behind the white triangle so it was either
lined, or she was shaven. I hoped for the latter, as it is a fetish of
mine. But, I reasoned, all would be revealed. The white crotch panty of
the singlet was damp and clearly darkened by her excitement. This almost
put me over the edge again. In a moment of inspiration I tore off my shirt,
and kicked off my runners. I awkwardly pulled off my sweaty socks and
stood there before her in my lycra compression shorts. Her eyes ravaged
my body and I prayed in thanks to the gods of running, that left my body
at least passable, with a barely perceptible paunch and decent muscle
tone. Perhaps I had no bulging biceps or massive pecs, but the package
wasn't bad. Again, another moment of truth that we all face with a new
sexual partner.

Luckily I
was so blood-blind with lust that I cared little for her opinion of my
rickety old body. She reached for my bulge again and my cock surged from
its confines against my thigh to a vertical rod beneath the fabric pointing
straight up at my chest. I moved closer, cramming her hands between my
crotch and the counter. I ran my fingertips over her nipples, gently so
as not to irritate them, but with a sense of urgency. She spoke: "Oh
Christ. I have to have you in my mouth," and in an instant she slithered
off the counter, turned me so my back was to it, and had dropped to her
knees. I could see her astounding ass stuck out behind her. She placed
her lips on my member, over the fabric, and slithered a sloppy, slurpy
tongue up and down it's prodigious length.

Pressed against
my stomach, she lathered it with kisses and licks, soaking the fabric
and making my cock-veins stand out through the material. One of her hands
strayed to my ass, against the counter, while the other cupped my balls
and kneaded them lightly. I was excruciatingly close to coming in my shorts
and felt that I needed to warn her, when to my amazement, she pulled down
the waistband of my shorts and exposed my aching penis to the world. Her
lips rapidly sought the purple head, and she bent it down to her face
with her one free hand so that she could sit back on her haunches and
suck heartily. With one final instant of perfect sexuality she gushed:

"Oh
fuck. Come on me...please.. I need your come."

And with
that, I was all done. In one massive eruption I spouted thick white gouts
of onto her face. She didn't even have time to get her mouth around the
end. In an involuntary reaction, she pulled back and shut her eyes, and
I painted her nose and chin with blasts of ropy goo. My final streams
of clear semen and white sperm sprayed her chest, staining her singlet
and sticking to her neck.

"Oh
man," I grunted. "Oh, ma-a-a-an"

"Like
that, did you?" she smiled up at me, licking her lips and smooshing
my gism from her face with her hand.

"Oh
yeah." I sighed, coming down from the rush. "Feeling a little
selfish though."

"That's
OK. It's your turn now." She stood up, still pulling strands of come
from her mouth and neck. Bending slightly and spreading her legs, she
unpopped the studs that joined her singlet at the crotch and pulled it
over her head. She was naked before me. I grabbed her one-piece out of
her hand and, staring her straight in the eye, sucked the sopping crotch
fabric into my mouth. I could taste the tang of her sweat and the thick
female musk of her pussy. She smiled widely and closed her eyes with a
delicate moue. Then, slowly, I lowered my gaze to her crotch. She backed
away and, turning around, hopped back up on the counter. Playfully, she
spread her thighs impossibly wide, and in a moment of staggering sensuality,
slid one hand down her flat stomach to her labia, and spread the lips,
exposing her shocking pink interior.

"Hungry?"
she cooed up at me.

This was
like nothing I'd ever experienced before. The raw sexual power that I
felt in my bones was like nothing anyone had ever given to me before.
My leaking cock flapped against my thigh as I slowly knelt to the tiled
floor, beholding her womanhood in all it's petite and tightly-folded glory.
I took her thighs and placed them over my shoulders. She leant back on
her hands, bracing herself against the counter top. I looked up one last
time and saw her close her eyes and throw her head back. She wiggled her
butt closer to the edge of the counter without opening her eyes. I could
feel the heat generated by her pussy. The smell was perfect. It was shaven
absolutely clean. Perfect. Not even a mark of stubble or dry skin.

Enough musk,
perfume and internal heat to cause my recently deflated wang to begin
to twitch again. I ran a finger up her slit, causing her to shudder. I
gently rubbed the moistened finger under my nose, savouring the odour
of her sex, knowing that I'd want to savour it later too. She was perfectly
formed, with angry red outer lips protecting inner pinkness that looked
innocent and fresh. I moved my mouth in closer and heard her suck in her
breath. This woman was so beautiful, so stunning, so vibrant and alive,
and here she was, spreading her thighs and inviting me to suck on her
sex. It was more than I could ever imagine, more than I could take. I
dove in to her pussy licking and nibbling her outer lips.

I brought
a finger up to caress her internally. I reached up inside for the G-spot
but she was writhing so much I doubt I ever came close. Her ass came right
off the counter. As she moaned and slithered about, I relished the sight
of juices dripping gently down to her ass cheeks and onto the counter.
I had never seen this before, none of my other girlfriends being so "wet".
I could see her ass smearing her own juices around on the counter.

I could feel
my cock growing underneath me, and slithering stickily up my thigh. I
munched and munched until my jaw got sore, until she was tossing and turning
on the end of my chin. Suddenly she leaned forward, grabbing my head with
one hand. She ground her pussy hard into my chin and for a moment I could
not breathe at all. In my joy I realized she was coming like a demon.
The heat generated by her vagina was staggering. My face was a slithering
mess of her juice. She had completely paid me back.

Unceremoniously,
she let go of my head and let me fall back onto my haunches. She was moaning
and sighing in a way that made me feel extremely virile. Her chest was
flushed and her little grapefruit-breasts were heaving, as she panted.

Finally she
opened her eyes and looked down at me, one hand supporting her and one
running lightly up and down her chest and crotch, like she was checking
for damage. She smiled down at me, her eyes heavily lidded.

"Wow."

"Oh
yeah," I sighed. "Wow"

"I have
been dreaming of that for weeks".

I felt the
blood stop in my veins. "Say what?"

"I said
I've been dreaming of that for weeks."

"What.
Getting boffed by me?"

She looked
at me with open eyes. "Oh yeah. Ever since I saw you running in the
rain".

"What?"
I was incredulous. Could this be?...

"You
looked so cute in your little wet shorts and socks". She giggled,
not unkindly. "Come in the shower with me."

I stood up,
still stunned with the revelation that she had actually lusted after me.
This was like a book that I couldn't have scripted better myself. I was
stiff from kneeling on the hard tile, so she extended a hand before slithering
off the counter. We took in each other's cum-covered faces and leaned
in for a kiss. I could taste my salty smears on her face, and I know she
could taste her cunt on my lips. It was a shared moment of sexual warmth.

She leaned
past me into the shower stall and ran the taps, testing the water temperature
with her hand. She pulled the metal tab and the shower head spurted with
a gush of warm water. Bent over like that, I still couldn't believe her
ass. It was like a work of art. I reached out a hand and ran my finger
tips all over the spectacular little globes. She giggled and wiggled her
butt before stepping into the shower. She was under the deluge immediately
and extended a hand to me. I stepped in behind her and pulled the shower
curtain closed behind me.